This was a fun post on today’s The Daily Stroll.
It got me to thinking (not for the first time) about all of the little pet names and sillyisms I share with Sofie. I’m sure they sound odd to others, except to Tim, who’s either received an explanation or is simply used to my Reginaisms.
Before Sofie was born, I called her Chucho. It was based on a character in the movie Mi Familia. There was a scene in the movie where someone yelled out something like, “I SAID come back here, Chucho!” (In the movie, Chucho was a drug addict.) That scene amused me for some reason. Probably because it reminded me of my mom yelling at me in a similar manner. (And, unlike Chucho, I am not a drug addict, unless you count coffee.)
Tim wanted a baby for a long time; I wasn’t there yet. I finally conceded years ago on the condition that we name the kid Chucho. I was being my silly cafe con leche/Latina self; Tim’s très caucasian. Tim with a kid named Chucho was funny stuff to me. One day, poor Tim actually said okay. awwww. He wanted one that much.
Anyway, once Sofia was born, it was clear she was not a Chucho. She’s “Baby Girl.” It’s a good thing she’s in day care, otherwise she’d probably spend the first 3 years of her life thinking her name was Baby Girl.
Besides Baby Girl (and Sunshine and Sweetie Pie Honey Bunch ), I frequently refer to Sofie as “My Bacon Sandwich of Love.” This arose from a conversation she and I had about how I was going to teach her how to make me bacon sandwiches because I heart bacon sooo much.
(Yes, I’d marry it if I could.)
That led to me calling her “My [fill in the blank] of love.” Kinda riffing on the “I love you more than [fill in the blank]” game Tim and I used to play.
My Chile Relleno of Love.
My Chia Pet of Love.
My Advil Gel Cap of Love.
My Gin and Tonic of Love.
My Kadunkadunk of Love. (Hence the kinship I feel with the Daily Stroll post.)
Just about anything.
In addition to our bacon sandwich conversation, we typically have discussions which denouement with stuff like: “You can’t play me. I’ve got your number, sistahfriend.”
Tim retorts, “Don’t be teaching her that ‘hood talk!”
“WHAT-ever. She’s cool like that, even if you ain’t… aight?! Aiiight.”
Am I possibly creating a monster, albeit a silly one?
It’ll be reallly interesting to hear what comes from her mouth once she actually starts talking!
(And, yeah, I know denouement is a noun. Whatever. Aight. Hasta.)Filed under NaBloPoMo, sofia, blahblahblah | Comment (0)